


under my skin runs fire ecstatic

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "We'll have to see if I can make you come with just my voice," Angie says, tone conversational. "All those elocution lessons ought to be good for something."





	under my skin runs fire ecstatic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mithborien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithborien/gifts).



> Title from Sappho's [Ode to Anactoria](http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42166/42166-h/42166-h.htm).

When he sees Steve using the Faber-Castell pencils, Bucky walks straight into the balcony door and almost breaks his nose.

"James!" Peggy's dropped the corkscrew and crossed the kitchen before Bucky finishes blinking the stars from his eyes. "Good Lord, are you quite alright?"

"Aw, damn, Peg." Bucky's voice is nasal and muffled by the hands he has pressed over the lower half of his face. "Would you mind grabbing me a towel or something? I don't want to get blood all over Angie's freshly mopped floor, here."

"Buck, you alright?" Steve asks as soon as he's got the balcony door open. Angie's hovering at his shoulder, eyes wide and a hand pressed to her mouth.

"Yeah, yeah." Bucky takes Peggy's proffered towel -- clean, but from the rag bin in the tiny hall closet; no reason to ruin the nicely monogrammed set Howard gave Peggy and Angie for their wedding, especially given how much thought Edwin no doubt put into their selection -- and is careful not to drip. The bleeding has already slowed, but Bucky's clearly making an effort not to make a mess as he walks to the kitchen sink. "I was just surprised and wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Surprised by what?" Angie asks, following Steve inside and sliding the door shut behind them.

Bucky shoots her a wry grin over his shoulder, though it softens when Steve puts one of his big hands on Bucky's back, concern writ large on his face. "The colored pencils," he says, low and embarrassed. "I hadn't realized, Stevie."

Angie shoots Peggy a puzzled look and it takes Peggy a moment to realize. "Oh. The color blindness." Angie's eyebrows rise practically to her hairline. "That hadn't occurred to me, actually."

"There were some more obvious cosmetic changes for you to adjust to, Buck," Steve reassures Bucky, who sighs and finishes cleaning himself up.

"What should I do with this, Peg?"

"Oh, just toss it in the trash," Angie says. "We've got plenty more rags where that came from."

Bucky smiles the special half smile that's only for Angie and Peggy grins. She was so pleasantly surprised when Bucky and Angie first met. Their similar childhoods, their boisterous laughter, their eye-rolling affection for Peggy and Steve formed an instant bond. It makes Peggy feel something warm and pleased curling beneath her breastbone.

"You got it, doll." Bucky tosses the towel in the bin and patiently waits as Steve takes Bucky's face in his hands and inspects the damage. "Well, Stevie, will I live?"

"Leave the dramatics to Angie," Steve replies, desert dry, before ducking to give Bucky a quick kiss. "It's a good thing I don't love you for your pretty face, 'cause your nose is gonna be swollen all to hell." His thumbs gently skim the already-purpling skin beneath Bucky's eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with horrible bruises under your eyes, too." Steve drops his hands from Bucky's face and turns to Peggy with an apologetic smile. "Peggy, I think we're gonna call it an early night."

"Aw, don't be -- " Bucky starts, but Angie cuts him off, crossing the small kitchen and wrapping him in a hug. Peggy takes the moment to slip outside and retrieve Steve's art supplies.

"Go home and let your big, strong man take care of you for once, sweetheart," Angie orders, voice muffled where her face is pressed against Bucky's chest.

Bucky sighs, but nods, giving Angie's shoulders a tight squeeze before releasing her. "Thanks for a wonderful dinner, ladies."

"Anytime, James," Peggy says, brushing a kiss against his cheek. "Really. And Steve, I'll see you at HQ Monday morning?"

Steve nods, ducking down to drop a kiss each on Peggy and Angie's foreheads. "Thanks again for dinner."

Peggy passes Steve his messenger bag full of art supplies and nudges him towards the apartment door. "Goodnight, boys. Remind Becca to give us a call when she gets into town next week, and text when the two of you get safely home?"

"You got it, Peg," Bucky promises, waving one last time before he and Steve leave.

Peggy locks the deadbolts behind them and turns to Angie, who's leaning against the kitchen counter and shaking her head.

"Can you imagine, Peggy?"

"What?" Peggy asks, walking towards Angie. "Waking up in an entirely new superpowered body? Or coming back from your third tour of duty in the sandbox to find your best friend and the mutually unrequited love of your life has left his rewarding admin job and signed himself up to play government science experiment with Howard Stark?"

"Both." Angie laughs, letting Peggy gather her in her arms. She settles her head in the crook of Peggy's neck, lips brushing soft and ticklish against her pulse point. "I ever mention how glad I am you bullied them into being our friends? They're really great. And talking about them makes us look almost normal, which is perfect for when we visit my mother."

Peggy snorts, closing her eyes and raising one of her hands to cup the back of Angie's neck. She revels in the familiar feeling of chestnut curls coolly sliding across her skin. "Sorry your dinner party ended early. I know you've been looking forward to it."

Peggy can feel Angie's little shrug. "It's alright. We got through the food part and I had a chance to embarrass Steve." Peggy makes a questioning noise. "He said it was okay for me to talk while he was drawing me, so I was asking about their sex life while you and Bucky were in here trying to find the corkscrew."

"Evil," Peggy murmurs, pulling back to see Angie's radiant smile. "Steve does have such a lovely blush. I'm glad he didn't lose that after the serum. He's such a joy to tease."

"And you call me evil." Angie laughs, sliding one hand down Peggy's arm and tugging her out of the kitchen and down the hall. "Anyway, I couldn't really get anything outta him. He's such a choir boy."

"You know, Angie, I think Steve actually was a choir boy," Peggy says, following Angie through the door to their bedroom and kicking off her sandals.

"I shall treasure that mental image until the heat death of the universe," Angie replies, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"May I?" Peggy kneels at Angie's nod and sets to work on the tiny buckles of her t-strap heels. "I adore these shoes."

"I know." Peggy glances up as she sets aside the heels. Angie is wearing her 'cat got the canary' smirk. "I know a few other things you like, too."

"Is that so?" Peggy raises one eyebrow and slides a hand beneath the hem of Angie's modest sundress. She groans, a delicious shiver running down her spine. There's a garter attached to the top of a lace-edged thigh highs and oh. Angie's not wearing any underwear. "You never cease to delight me, darling."

Angie bends over and hauls Peggy toward her by the crisply ironed collar of her button-down. "Aw, Peg, you say the sweetest things."

Peggy's reply is pleasantly cut off by the press of Angie's lips to her own. When they first started going out, Peggy expected Angie to be a bit shy in the bedroom, especially after Angie admitted she'd only dated a handful of women in the past. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find Angie more than up to the task of reducing Peggy to a quivering mass of deeply satisfied limbs.

"Clothes off for me, Peg," Angie orders, releasing her hold on Peggy's collar with a sharp smile. "Don't dawdle." She slides back until she's leaning on the pillows mounded against the padded headboard. "You know how sad I get when you keep me waiting."

Peggy makes quick work of her shirt as she kicks off her sensible flats. "I do, Angie. And you know how I hate to keep you waiting, darling."

"I do. Hush now, Peg." Angie's smile slips sideways into a smirk. Peggy's mouth snaps shut and she removes her trousers and boyshorts in one swift movement. "And the bra."

Peggy unclasps the bra and drops it on top of the rest of her clothes. Then, she waits.

Angie studies Peggy with half lidded eyes, the fingers of her right hand slowly tracing along the delicate wing of one collarbone. Peggy stands at parade rest and ignores the way her hands tremble against the small of her back, the jackrabbit beating of her heart, the nigh unbearable heat pooling between her thighs.

"You're so gorgeous like this, English." Angie's voice is low and admiring. It sends a bolt of heat through Peggy that settles low in her belly. "You're so carefully put together all day long, kicking those baby agents around and not taking the slightest bit of guff from anyone. I'm the only person who gets to see you like this. I'm the only person who gets to take you apart like this. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Peggy rasps, feeling herself sway a little where she stands.

Angie nods. "You know, I think you might blush even sweeter than Steve." Her tongue swipes slow across her bottom lip, leaving it shining and plump and Peggy can't quite breathe for a moment. "It's hard to judge, of course, seeing as how I've never seen him naked and you. Well." Angie nestles further into the pillows with a delectable shimmy of hips and shoulders. "I get to see the way that pretty pink flush spreads all the way down to your perfect tits. Steve's a gorgeous specimen, pre- and post-serum, don't get me wrong." Angie waggles her perfectly arched eyebrows. "But I just don't see how anyone could possibly be lovelier than you. It's one of the many reasons I married you. The way you're always so ready for me. So sweet and so desperate to please me. You are, aren't you?"

"Yes." Peggy bites back the whine fighting its way out of her throat. She struggles against the instinct to sob or scream or drop to her knees right then and there. Angie's hand stills against one shoulder where she'd been idly twisting the strap of her dress. She folds her hands demurely in her lap, like she hasn't been taking Peggy apart just with the steady heat of her gaze, the heady caress of her sweet voice, the tempting promise of her long, dexterous fingers. "Yes, always, Angie."

Angie hums her approval. "We'll have to see if I can make you come with just my voice," Angie says, tone conversational.  "All those elocution lessons ought to be good for something."

That's when Peggy's legs rapidly start turning to jelly.

"Hmm. Some night we'll certainly have to try that. I think you like that idea as much as I do." Angie tilts her head to one said, eyes crinkling at the corners when she grins. "But not tonight. Tonight I think we'll let your talented tongue do all the work." Angie spreads her legs wide enough for Peggy to lay down between them, but doesn't shift the hem of her dress. "Up on the bed, Peg. You know where I want you."

Peggy climbs onto the bed, settling herself with her belly flush against the bedspread, the weight of her upper body settled on her forearms between Angie's spread thighs. Angie loves to watch Peggy's flushed breasts trembling in the air as Peggy turns her face up to Angie's admiring gaze. She never likes having to shift Peggy's torso for better access to her breasts, loves to see the sweeping arch of Peggy's spine, the dimples over her plush ass, the way she desperately squeezes her thighs together in search of friction.

"Well, what do you think?" Angie's fingers brush an errant curl away from Peggy's forehead, the gesture familiarly soothing and yet still capable of setting Peggy's very nerve endings alight. "Are you ready to make me come? Gonna put that gorgeous mouth of yours to work, slip those perfect fingers right inside me, fuck me hard and fast and so sweet?"

"Yes, yes please, Angie." Peggy can feel her cheeks flame hotter at she meets Angie's admiring gaze. "Please let me."

"Of course I'll let you, sweetheart." Angie rubs her thumb across Peggy's spit-slick lower lip once, twice, before withdrawing her hand and shifting the hem of her dress up past her hips. "Color?"

"Green, green, so very fucking green." Peggy's voice is a harsh rasp, a plea, a prayer.

Angie laughs, because she's evil that way. The incongruous, bell-like sound has Peggy grinning up at her, sharp and hot and not a little bit wicked. 

"That's what I like to hear." Angie settles further back into the pillows, shifting one beneath her her hips for a better angle. She holds the fabric of her dress's skirt pressed firmly against her belly and raises her knees to give Peggy more room to maneuver. "Do you like these suspenders?"

"They're gorgeous, darling," Peggy assures her, though gorgeous doesn't come close to describing the near-divinity that is Angie in Agent Provocateur lingerie. Her hungry eyes trace the lines of the black silk and pink ribbons that crisscross Angie's milky skin.

"I think we'll leave everything else on, then." Angie nods, as if that hadn't been her plan since the moment she put the whole bloody outfit on that morning. It's a blessing and a curse that Peggy hadn't known she'd been wearing it all day. She's not entirely sure she would've been able to keep herself from jumping Angie while the boys were still here. "You know what I like, Peg. Mouth and hands. Make me come."

The steady confidence in Angie's eyes and voice combine with the way she's already dripping wet to make Peggy blissfully lightheaded.

The first touch of Peggy's hands to the Angie's warm, silky skin is a shock every time. The reality of being able to touch her, to wrap herself in Angie's heat and scent as well as her love strips Peggy bare in a way that removing her clothes never does. Peggy shoulders Angie's thighs a little wider and Angie sighs, going boneless against the pillows, but keeps her blue eyes fixed on Peggy's face. Slim, strong fingers fist the hair at the nape of Peggy's neck and she shudders, drops the first biting kiss to the thin, sensitive expanse of Angie's thigh.

"Yes, just like that." Angie's fingers tighten in Peggy's curls to the fine, stinging line of pleasure-pain that makes everything go a bit red and hazy. "Kiss it better, Peg."

Peggy's tongue soothes over the already-darkening bite mark just above the lace of Angie's thigh highs. She tastes the salty slickness of sweat and the first sweet-musk hints of Angie's cunt, but doesn't move any closer to where Angie's positively sopping and waiting for her touch. They can both wait. Peggy presses gentle lips to the stinging bite mark before adding pressure, sucking hard and fast as a whine rises high and needy in the back of Angie's throat. She only sucks harder as Angie's fingers spasm along the curve of her skull, lose their grip on her curls and slip down to fist the soft cotton of the comforter.

Once the skin is tender, blood flushing the surface in what will soon be a gorgeous splotch of crimson and violet, Peggy turns her head and sets to work on the other side. Over the top of Angie's thigh, which trembles so wonderfully under her ministrations, Peggy watches Angie's nail beds go white as she clutches frantically at the bedclothes. Anyone else would have their head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes shut, but when Peggy glances up Angie still has her eyes fixed firmly on Peggy's face.

"You are so good for me." Angie pants, the delicate slope of her breasts heaving beneath the fabric of her dress. There are bright streaks of color high across her cheekbones. Sweat is starting to bead along her brow, a golden gleam in the tempting hollow of her throat, a sparkling promise in the curls frizzing at her temples.

Peggy's mouth slips free from Angie's skin, darts back to press a swift, soft kiss to the darkening mark there. She traces the lace ringing Angie's thighs as she struggles to breathe against the electric champagne fizz roiling in her own rib cage. It's only ever been like this with Angie. Peggy had lovers before Angie, competent and wonderful people who gave her pleasure and helped her pass the time.

None of them compare to Peggy's wife.

Peggy has never lost herself in Angie, but she does find herself. Each time Angie looks at her, she is gloriously split open and truly seen in a way no one else has ever managed. Sweet-faced Angie, with her easygoing smiles and movie star charm, has the power to break Peggy down to her fundamental parts. And because she is Angie, with her incongruously pure heart and predictably wicked tongue, she never uses this advantage to destroy or manipulate. Angie builds Peggy back up, stronger at the mended places that no one else has ever seen or touched.

Angie's love is an everyday miracle that makes Peggy wish she believed in God, if only so she'd have someone to thank.

"Do you remember the first time you were my date for the Golden Globes?" Angie asks, one hand releasing the comforter to curl around the back of Peggy's neck.

"Yes," Peggy moans as Angie gently pulls her face closer.

"Give me your lovely fingers, sweetheart," Angie orders, sighing as Peggy spreads her lips with blunt, gun-calloused fingers. "It was my first nomination for a lead role. I was so nervous I was sure I was gonna be sick. You said you had just the thing to calm me down." Her voice hitches as Peggy slips one finger in, a slick glide, easy as anything, all the way to the knuckle. "And you got on your knees in the limo and ate me out until I was nearly sobbing from coming so hard." Peggy nods, sliding another finger into Angie's hot, wet cunt and crooks them just right. Angie wails, high and hungry, her inner walls clenching around Peggy's fingers and Peggy can feel her mouth start watering. Angie's back shudders out of its arch and still, still she stares at Peggy with fever bright eyes clear even in the wake of orgasm. Her trembling hand at the nape of Peggy's neck is the only benediction she'll ever need. "Do you remember what happened on the red carpet?" Angie asks once she can breathe again, voice shaky.

"The reporter from Vogue asked what lip gloss I was wearing." Peggy scissors her fingers as she pulls them slowly out, loves the way Angie keens, loves how she goes hypersensitive and greedy after the first orgasm. She gently circles Angie's entrance for a heartbeat, thumb firmly pressed to her clit and just dipping the tips of her fingers inside as Angie writhes and pants. Just when Angie opens her mouth to order Peggy to get a move on, Peggy thrusts three fingers into the spasming clutch of Angie's inner muscles. She presses insistent fingertips against that lovely spot that always lights Angie up from the inside. Her thumb slickly circles Angie's clit with the exact amount of pressure to make her lose her goddamn mind. Angie's hands scrabble wildly for Peggy's shoulders, her fingernails biting into the freckled skin over her shoulder blades as her chest heaves and her back bows. She lets loose a breathless little scream that might be Peggy's name if there was enough air to support it. "And I said it was just a little something I'd borrowed from you."

"I swear, Peg," Angie gasps, her voice reedy and desperate as Peggy settles into a fast, hard rhythm that rocks Angie's slender frame back into the pillows, "that was it. That was the moment I knew I had to marry you." Peggy's rhythm falters as she stares up at Angie. She can hear her pulse pounding in her ears and can feel Angie fluttering around her fingers and she might actually pass out. "Color, sweetheart?"

"Green, but I want you to sit on my face."

"Sure, English." Angie's face splits into a wide grin. "Anything you want. I just need a sec so I don't fall down and smother you."

Peggy returns Angie's grin, slipping her fingers free. She loves the glazed, hungry expression that steals across Angie's features as she slips all three fingers into her mouth with a pleased hum.

"You will no doubt be the death of me, Peg," Angie says, her own fingers slowly releasing Peggy's shoulders. "But what a way to go."

Peggy slides back at Angie's tap on her side. Angie shakes out her shoulders and rises to her knees, turning to face the headboard before motioning for Peggy to slide beneath her. They settle with Peggy half sitting on the pillows and Angie kneeling above her, arms extended and grasping the headboard for support.

"Is that comfortable for you? Not gonna strain your neck once I bend down?" Angie asks, dropping one hand to brush Peggy's hair back from her forehead.

"No, this will be perfect." Peggy turns her face into Angie's hand, lets the soothing feeling of Angie's soft palm on her flushed cheek steady the frantic want pounding away in her chest.

"Okay. I want you to start with your hands here." Angie moves Peggy's hands to the outside of her thighs, along the line of her suspenders. "At the start I just want your mouth, but I'll tell you when I want your fingers. If it gets to be too much or I'm not giving you enough space or time to breathe, you tap on my hip. Understood?"

"Yes, Angie." The need to get her mouth on Angie is nigh unbearable. Her fingers clutch Angie's thighs so tightly she'll have matching sets of finger-shaped bruises. She's viciously glad that Angie will be walking around for days with the evidence of Peggy's longing, hidden from prying eyes beneath her demure sundresses and high waisted jeans. They've always been overly fond of leaving marks on each other. It's rare for Peggy to go a fortnight without the other agents teasing her in the locker room, and Peggy is the perpetual terror of every makeup artist Angie's worked with for years. "I understand."

"Alright." Angie bends her knees and tilts her hips and the noise Peggy makes when she finally gets her mouth on her would be deafening if it wasn't muffled against her cunt. "I love how much you love this."

And Peggy does love it, loves everything about going down on Angie. She loves the quivering muscles of warm, silky thighs pressed against the sides of her head. Loves the sweet-salt musk of the juices that fill her mouth, the taste, the smell overpowering and perfect. Loves the way Angie fists her hair and presses Peggy right where she wants her, grinds her clit against Peggy's mouth or nose. Loves the hoarse demands Angie makes for more, harder, faster, deeper, there there, right there, yes, so good for me, Peg. Loves the praise that drips from Angie's lips sweet and refreshing as summer rain.

Peggy's spent hours between Angie's thighs, mouthing at her gorgeous cunt until her tongue and jaw ache and Angie is finally reduced to almost incoherent babbling that consists entirely of praises and Peggy's name. Tonight she doesn't think either of them are in the mood for a long, drawn out session. Peggy wants to make Angie come again, fast and hard, and then wants Angie to have her way with Peggy however she sees fit.

"God, I love your mouth," Angie says, grinding down as Peggy's fingers dig into the meat of her thighs. "But you can use your fingers whenever you want."

Peggy pulls her face away and slips her right hand between Angie's thighs. She uses two fingers to spread Angie's lips and takes a moment to just breathe, dizzy and teasing as she blows air against the jungle warmth of her. Angie wiggles her hips just enough to let Peggy know she's not in the mood to wait. Peggy obliges her by licking a firm stripe from perineum to clit and Angie's wail raises in time with the slide of her tongue.

"I need your fingers inside me right now," Angie says, and Peggy is never one to make her wife wait for anything she desires.

Peggy shifts her left hand around to curl into the flesh of Angie's ass, tilting her hips to a better angle. As Angie gasps, chest heaving, Peggy wraps her lips around Angie's clit and sucks, bruising hard, as she thrusts the first two fingers of her right hand into the tight clutch of Angie's body. Angie screams and pounds one fist against their padded headboard, shivers visibly running the full length of her spine as she frantically presses down for more, now.

"Right there, Peg, right there, right there -- " Angie orders as Peggy's fingers mercifully twist against Angie's G-spot. Peggy sucks harder at Angie's clit, the tip of her tongue teasing it with swirling strokes before she bites and that's it. Angie's hands drop from the headboard and clutch at the pillows, hips bucking against Peggy's firm hold and the still steady thrusting of her fingers. "So good for me, sweetheart," Angie gasps. "So perfect for me."

Peggy soothes the bite in gentle swipes of the flat of her tongue, slowing the rhythm of her fingers as the furious flutter of Angie's walls slows to the occasional weak squeeze.

Angie reaches between her thighs and gently pats Peggy on the head. Peggy presses more deeply into the pillows and slowly slides her fingers free, resting obediently still as Angie turns and sits with her ass against her heels.

"That was so good, Peggy," Angie praises, bending down to kiss Peggy's slack mouth. They make out as Angie's heart slows to a less breakneck pace in her chest, tongues chasing back and forth the flavor of Angie's cunt and Peggy's sweet mouth. "Color?"

"Green." Peggy's eyelids start to feel heavy even as the dull ache between her legs comes back to her as her focus slips from Angie's pleasure to her own.

"Gorgeous. You're just gorgeous like this, so pliant and biddable beneath me." Angie drops a quick kiss to Peggy's lips before her mouth starts moving south. She presses her lips to the sensitive skin at the hinge of Peggy's jaw and Peggy can feel her heart stutter-stop before kicking into double time. "Love to shake you apart like this."

Peggy lies limp and quivering against the pillows as Angie trails a burning line of kisses down her neck to her chest. Angie smiles into the curve of Peggy's breast, sweet and innocent, before dropping a sharp bite along the underside of each breast. Peggy keens weakly as Angie soothes the sting with gentle swipes of her tongue and thumbs. Peggy's nerve endings are still sparking randomly when Angie settles her lips around one nipple and sucks, tongue tracing nonsense patterns. Angie's clever fingers are plucking and teasing the other nipple to aching hardness. Peggy clenches her trembling thighs together as the pleasure grows and Angie still isn't touching her where she needs it most. Angie switches sides, fingers tweaking the spit-slick nipple as she begins to nip and suck at Peggy's other breast.

Peggy thinks she might be going mad.

Angie notices the shift in Peggy's breathing from quick to desperate and ceases her infuriating teasing.

"Color?"

"Green, but I want to come. Please, can I come?"

"Whenever you want, sweetheart. Do you want my fingers?"

"Please."

Angie nods, her eyes unbearably gentle as she gathers Peggy's limp wrists and raises them over her head. She holds them there with one firm hand and drops the other hand to rest just above the juncture of Peggy's thighs. "Ready?" Peggy nods, and Angie graces her with a smile that actually steals the breath from Peggy's lungs.

"Alright, Peg. Remember, you go ahead and come whenever you want." And then she slips three fingers into Peggy's cunt.

It's too much and not enough at the same time. The stretch is sudden, but Peggy's been slick and aching for Angie's touch for ages, so it's not painful, just an aching, sweet-sharp fullness. Peggy sobs with relief, neck arching as Angie's thumb starts rubbing her clit in perfect time with the slow, steady glide of fingers in and out of her.

"God, you're so beautiful like this, Peggy," Angie breathes, ducking her head to kiss away the single tear that slides down from Peggy's right eye. "I told you that you could come whenever you want, and I meant it. Do you want to?"

"Yes," Peggy begs. "Yes, please, I want to come. Will you make me come, Angie?"

"Of course I will," Angie swears, twisting her fingers just right in Peggy's cunt and oh, oh right there. "Found it." Angie's grin turns feral. "Go ahead and come, Peggy," Angie instructs, pressing mercilessly against Peggy's g-spot.

Peggy feels like her entire body clenches and she whites out. When she comes back to herself, she's shaking from head to toe and Angie is murmuring praises and reassuring nothings as she strokes a warm, damp washcloth gently between Peggy's legs.

"I didn't even notice you get up," Peggy says once she's regained the power of speech. Her words sound a little blurry around the edges, her accent more pronounced like it is when she first wakes in the morning.

"Yeah, I think you might've actually blacked out for a minute there." Angie presses a kiss to Peggy's damp forehead. "You feeling alright, now, English?"

"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a while, but other than that I feel wonderful."

Angie laughs and tosses the washcloth in the vague direction of the hamper. She carefully shifts Peggy's unruly limbs beneath the sheets and slides in next to her.

"Wobbly, but satisfied, huh?" 

"You have such a way with words, darling," Peggy laughs and presses a kiss to the palm of Angie's hand.

"Well, you know me." Angie slides her fingers into Peggy's sweat-damp hair and settles back into the pillows with her. "I'm an actress, not a screenwriter."

"True." Peggy nods and marvels at how her heart can possibly feel this full without bursting open. "But I've always admired your skill at improvisation."

They descend into tired, blissful laughter and soon drift into sleep, still curled towards each other like parentheses.


End file.
